


His Soldier

by BookDragon14 (orphan_account)



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, Genya/Darkling, Siege and Storm - Freeform, The Whaler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-13 03:22:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11175960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/BookDragon14
Summary: Just a short one shot. I wasn't planning on it turning out like this, but, like so many of my stories, it got away from me and took it's own direction. So it is about Genya and the Darkling, a pairing I've never seen before. Hope you like it!





	His Soldier

Genya Safin hated boats. Well, this boat; to be honest she had never been on any other boat. It wasn't that she got seasick; though to her delight several of the more snobbish Corporalki had been puking their guts out the entire voyage.

It was the smell that got to her the most. The ship had been a whaler before Sturmhond had "acquired" it for the Darkling, and the smell hadn't faded. Then there was the crew, ever since Sturmhond had stood up to the Darkling over him threatening to torture Alina, they had been restless, if not hostile to the Grisha.

Genya plucked nervously at the blue embroidery on the sleeves of her Corparalki red _kefta_. It labeled her, just as surely as her white and gold _kefta_ back in Os Alta had. This one named her as special, a favorite of the Darkling, a Corparalki. But it was the same thing. Pet. Tailor. Servant. Whore. The white and gold had proclaimed. Now she simply has a different label.

The blue sleeves that set her apart were all they saw now, not the red cloth that named her one of them. She knew the voices, the whispers, better than she knew her own, "Tailor," they said, "outsider. "

"Genya."

She turned, her train of thought broken by the voice that spoke beside her. Ivan. At least he didn't treat her like she was different, he spoke to her with the same scorn and dislike as he did everyone else. She forced her lips to pull into a smile, her fingers to stop pulling at the vibrant, blue thread.

"Yes?"

"The Darkling wants to speak to you."

That was a surprise. "Why?"

A shrug. Genya rolled her eyes, turning away and heading belowdecks to the Darkling's quarters, leaving the heartrender behind. It took her only a minute to reach the dark passage outside his cabin. Hesitantly, she reached out and knocked softly, once, twice-

"Come in."

The Darkling was seated at his desk, papers strewn out across the surface, a red and gold book in front of him. She approached slowly, stopping a good five paces from where he sat. The Darkling had been kind to her, in his own way, but she, like all the Grisha feared and respected him enough to keep their distance.

"Alina. How is she?"

"Asks the man who just threatened to torture her."

"It was a show. I had to give the tracker incentive to do what I wanted."

"So you wouldn't have hurt her?"

"I never said that."

"I thought you cared about her. I mean, I didn't think you were in love or anything, but..."

She trailed off, alabaster cheeks turning red beneath his calm gaze. He watched her silently, as if considering exactly what she was and what to do with her.

"She's scared... she misses the tracker, and she thinks you're a monster now, happy?"

"No."

She stared at him again. Then she shook her head, fingers once again seeking the blue cuffs of her _kefta_. His quartz-gray eyes caught the motion and he tilted his head slightly.

"You don't like your _kefta_."

"Of course I do! You know what it means to me."

"But it makes you feel uncomfortable."

"No." Yes...

She whirled and strode toward the door, then froze as a rush of power surged through her. Slowly she looked down and saw the Darkling's long, pale fingers curled around her slender wrist.

"Back at the Little Palace; you came to me one day. The day after the King first... visited you. Do you remember what I said?"

"You... you said that I was a soldier. Your soldier, and that one day everyone would know that."

"And do they?"

"Yes..."

"Then what's wrong?"

"They... the other Grisha... they... they still treat me the same way..."

She looked away, blushing at how childish she sounded. He tightened his grip on her wrist, placing a finger beneath her chin and turning her face toward him.

"You are my soldier. Remember that. You are strong, you are powerful, you are smart, you are beautiful. You are a soldier, and soldiers do what needs to be done."

She looked up then, amber eyes meeting slate grey ones. And then he leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers. She stiffened slightly then kisses him back, winding her fingers into his dark hair. Her mind drifts back to a conversation she had with Alina, back at the Little Palace, so long ago.

_"Has he ever...? I mean, have you and he ever...?_

_"No! Never! A mischievous smile twitched on her lips. "But I would."_

_"Really?"_

_"Who wouldn't?" Her eyes met Alina's in the mirror. "But I'd never let my heart get involved."_

As the Darkling wound his arms around her slender frame she thought that maybe, just maybe, she had lied. She was a soldier yes, and soldiers did what had to be done, but she wasn't just any soldier; she was his soldier. 


End file.
